


Birds of a Crest-Feather

by LightningNymph



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Edelgard raised by Rhea, F/F, For Want of a Nail, Maternal Instinct, One-Sided Attraction, Puppy Love, Rhea not being an Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningNymph/pseuds/LightningNymph
Summary: Written for theFE3H Kink Meme.“…and so I thought to entrust her to your care,” Lord Arundel finished, jolting Rhea from her reverie. “With the roads to the Kingdom blocked due to the storm, there is nowhere else she would be safe. Your Grace, please, lend us your protection…”“Please, rise, Lord Arundel,” she told him, giving him a soft smile. “The Empire and the Church of Seiros have had a long history together. It would be a terrible thing to abandon you in your time of need. Princess Edelgard will be safe within these walls, and I will personally see to it that she will receive the best care I can offer, until it is safe for her to return."Rather than successfully escaping to the Kingdom capital as intended, Lord Arundel is forced to leave his niece, Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg, in the care of the Archbishop, Lady Rhea.Small things can lead to large consequences.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Rhea, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Rhea
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	Birds of a Crest-Feather

**Author's Note:**

> > So during the insurrection of the seven, Arundel goes out of his way to drop Edelgard in Faerghus to protect her from the messy stuff happening back home. In this AU, Arundel leaves her in the monastery under Rhea´s care. And Rhea, seeing how the nobles have won, decides to pull some bullshit to make Edelgard stay until she's old enough to take the throne. For her old buddy Wilhelm's sake.
>> 
>> And so Edie girl grows up with a hot milf as her tutor.
>> 
>> Rhea reciprocating her affections or noticing at all is up to the anon who decides to fill this.
> 
> ~~...it's more like tiny little indications of crushes followed by Rhea being oblivious and maternal, but shhhhhshhshh.~~
> 
> Huge thanks to the [FE3H Kinkmeme Discord group](https://discord.gg/faEejQ8), and user "Y/N would pleep w/ both Byleths" in particular for poking at this for me to check if this flowed right!

_She doesn’t look like Wilhelm at all_ , Rhea thinks, almost absently.

The hair isn’t Wilhelm’s dark chestnut color but a soft, mousey brown. The eyes are a puplish color, different from the steel grey she remembers. The figure too slight, the face the wrong shape.

And yet something about the way she stands, scared but determined, hasn’t changed a bit over the centuries between Wilhelm and his descendant, standing before her.

How many times had she seen that exact expression, the night before yet another battle against Nemesis, and watched him hide it in the morning to face his men?

It was hard to tell, the centuries having softened the edges of her memories.

“...and so I thought to entrust her to your care,” Lord Arundel finished, jolting Rhea from her reverie. “With the roads to the Kingdom blocked due to the storm, there is nowhere else she would be safe. Your Grace, please, lend us your protection...”

He fell into a deep bow, conveniently hiding his tired, worn look, borne from the long trek to the mountains and worrying about insurrectionist soldiers at every corner.

The young princess did not bow, clenching her hands into fists, staring Rhea directly in the eye, expression somewhere between fierce and pleading.

The edges of her memories may be dulled, but her heart remembers.

“Please, rise, Lord Arundel,” she told him, giving him a soft smile. “The Empire and the Church of Seiros have had a long history together. It would be a terrible thing to abandon you in your time of need. Princess Edelgard will be safe within these walls, and I will personally see to it that she will receive the best care I can offer, until it is safe for her to return.”

The weight lifted from Lord Arundel’s shoulders was evident as he straightened up again, looking years younger, and the princess’ expression softened as well.

“Lady Rhea, thank you,” he said. “May the Goddess protect you both.”

As he and the princess left the audience room to see to their affairs, Rhea knew she should be grateful for the chance to strengthen the bonds between the Empire and the Church to what they used to be, to be at the ear of one of the Imperial family.

Instead, she found herself wondering what Wilhelm would have thought of her now.

* * *

“We’re sheltering one of the _Imperial princesses_?” Seteth asked her that night, frozen halfway through taking off his coat from his visit to Flayn.

“Princess Edelgard, the third-youngest,” Rhea said, setting aside her lesson-plan for now.

“Goddess above,” Seteth groaned, putting his coat up and settling down across the table from her. “I had heard there was rising tension in the Empire, but to hear that things would get this bad in my absence... I should not have left...”

“Seteth, you could not have known,” Rhea said, shaking her head. “Besides, your daughter would get quite upset if you’d kept her waiting.”

“You are correct, but still—”

“Seteth. You could not have foreseen this. If you have the time, I would ask you to spend that energy getting more information on the current state of the Empire. I know that you must be worried about logistics, but we are obligated to help.”

Seteth sighed, reaching for a scroll to take notes on. “Of course. I will inform you the moment I hear something.”

“Thank you.”

“You will be needing a tutor for the princess as well, I imagine,” Seteth murmured, making another note.

Rhea paused, running a finger along the rim of her cup. “Perhaps not.”

Seteth looked up immediately. “Rhea, _surely_ you must know that the child needs an _education_. She is Imperial royalty, we could not just—”

“ _Seteth_. I will teach the child myself.”

“Lady Rhea, I _beg_ you to reconsider,” Seteth said, sounding more tired than she’d heard him in centuries. “You’re the _Archbishop_. You have your duties to attend to.”

“And we will find a way to balance the two,” Rhea said. “Perhaps not all the time. We could let her take lessons with the orphaned wards of the church on occasion, so that she may get to know her future subjects. But young Edelgard’s welfare is _important_ to me, Seteth. This opportunity must have been a gift from the Goddess, so that by fostering Edelgard, we may foster a better relationship with the Empire in turn.”

Seteth gave her a long, silent look, having known her long enough to know when he wasn’t getting the whole story, and also when she would refuse to answer.

“You cannot spend _all_ of your time with her,” he said finally.

“I was not expecting to,” Rhea said. “As you said, I have my duties to attend to. But with the aid of the staff at Garreg Mach, I am sure I will manage.”

“I will leave you to determine what times might suit you, then,” Seteth said, rolling up his scroll. _You figure it out, if you must insist on being difficult_ was not something Seteth was generally capable of, but this was as close to that as he got.

“Thank you for your advice, as always,” Rhea said nonetheless, nodding at him as he left.

* * *

Edelgard adjusted to the monastery about as well as could be expected, given the circumstances, learning its routines soon enough. She took in the goings-on with wide-eyed curiosity and talked to just about everyone she ran into, asking dozens of questions about their job, where they came from, and anything else that came to mind, drinking in every bit of learning she could wrestle out of them now that she was still humoured as a child.

Even Rhea herself was no exception, as just about every morning lesson ended with her interrupting it—sometimes to ask about what Rhea was about to teach her anyway, but usually with whatever was on her mind.

“—and during the ensuing armstice, Loog’s faction negotiated peace terms with—”

“Did Seteth hear anything about my siblings yet?” Edelgard asked, staring at the textbook in-between them.

It took a second for the weight behind the question to hit, used as she was to them. Rhea stopped dead halfway through her sentence, the Battle of the Eagle and Lion entirely forgotten.

“I promise you, we are doing everything we can,” Rhea said gently. “But... no one knows where they went.”

“I’ve been talking to the members of the Southern Church,” she said quietly. “They say that Duke Aegir is in charge now. That they think my siblings...” She trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Sweet child...” Getting up, Rhea walked around the table, reaching out to stroke her hair. Edelgard flinched briefly, jolted from her thoughts, but just as Rhea was about to pull away, she leaned into it. “I promise you, we are doing everything we can. Our influence in Adrestia is limited, but Seteth has asked every church to let us know if something changes. Your uncle hasn’t stopped searching either. It’s too soon to give up just yet.”

Edelgard closed her eyes. “You’ll tell me if you hear something, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” she soothed. “I would never leave you in uncertainty like that.”

Edelgard looked up at her again, purple eyes fixed on Rhea’s green ones, and Rhea almost shied away from them. She wondered if Edelgard could tell it in her heart, that the not knowing, the nebulous _maybe_ and _but maybe not_ , was worse than the certainty of _definitely not_ , and that Rhea was too familiar with it.

“Thank you,” she said, giving her a brave attempt at a smile.

“You’re very welcome, Edelgard,” Rhea said, returning the smile.

* * *

“Professor Hanneman taught me about Crests today,” Edelgard mentioned one afternoon over tea, picking at a muffin.

“Did he?” Rhea asked, pouring herself another cup. “I’m sure he had a lot of interesting things to say about them.”

Edelgard made a vaguely agreeing sound. Raising her hand, she conjured her Crest, shining bright red—the Crest of Seiros. Rhea’s own Crest, passed on to Wilhelm I and down through the ages.

Seeing it like this was a strange feeling. Were she human, she might call this sensation age creeping up on her.

“Blessings from the Goddess,” Edelgard said, eyes tracing the feather-shaped figure, “gifted to humans ages ago to help keep them safe.”

 _Stolen by humans who wanted more power and prestige, used to murder everyone that she loved. Forcing her to play nice, even when the sight of them nauseated her_.

Rhea took a sip of tea to hide as she regained her composure.

“So the Book of Seiros says,” she agreed evenly, watching Edelgard. “But I suspect you have something on your mind.”

Edelgard turned to look at her, the Crest dissipating into the air. “How’d you know?” she asked.

“You seem more thoughtful than usual, even when you’re just speaking to process the things you have learned. And...” Hesitating for a moment, Rhea turned her palm up.

Edelgard’s eyes widened, seeing her crest reflected back at her—brighter, hints of gold tinting the red, but the same design.

“You and I are very similar,” Rhea said. “And people with the same crest will sometimes have a sense of the other’s emotions. I could... tell, that something occupied your thoughts.”

Edelgard bit her lip, staring at the table. When Rhea allowed the crest to fade again, she spoke up, sounding hesitant and unsure.

“One of the Academy students... was crying earlier today.”

“Ah.” A familiar pattern, seen time and again over the centuries, and one that never ceased to hurt. “I take it the student in question had a Crest, then.”

“Goneril,” Edelgard said simply. “Her father sent her a letter. She has to marry a wealthy nobleman old enough to be her grandfather after graduating next month, when she didn’t want to marry at all.” Her hand tightened its grip on her skirt. “If Crests are a gift, why would the Goddess do this?”

The child was more perceptive than Rhea gave her credit for, but too dangerous yet to give the truth. A difficult situation to be in, and one that tugged at Rhea’s heart.

After what felt like a long time, Rhea cleared her throats. “People... can be very cruel, sometimes. Greed and a desire for power are strong motivators.”

Edelgard looked up at her. “Then can’t anything be done? Can’t _you_ tell them to stop? You’re the Archbishop, they’ve got to listen to you.”

 _As long as I tell them what they want to hear. As long as I can back it up with swords and axes and lances, spilling blood into the soil_.

“There is always room for more nuns at the monastery,” Rhea said. “And the Church and Garreg Mach protect those in need. Should you find that student again, please, tell them that, and let them know that I will listen, if they need it.”

Edelgard’s face lit up at that. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Rhea smiled. “Please, call me Rhea.”

* * *

On the fourteenth day of the Garland Moon, 1174, Lord Arundel sent word that with the unrest in the Empire having calmed down, princess Edelgard was expected to return by the Blue Sea Moon.

On the fifteenth day of the Garland Moon, Edelgard knocked on Rhea’s door. One look and Rhea knew all she needed to know.

Stepping aside to allow Edelgard entry, Rhea asked, “Would you like some tea?”

Edelgard shook her head. “No, but thank you.”

Rhea hummed, pulling up a chair for her. “You seem like you’ve got a lot to think about.”

Edelgard fidgeted. “It’s about Lord Arundel’s letter,” she admitted. “About... my return to the Empire.”

“Nervous?” Rhea asked, reaching out and stroking Edelgard’s hair.

Edelgard closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “...I don’t want to go.”

Rhea’s hand stilled.

“I haven’t been there in years,” Edelgard said, “they never did find my siblings, the staff and my father always dismissed me as unimportant because I had eight older siblings, I don’t feel ready to be the heir apparent, and I—” She hesitated. “...I would miss you.”

“Oh, dear child...” Rhea continued her petting. “You can’t stay forever.”

“I know that,” she said, bristling. “But I don’t think I need to leave yet. I won’t be able to inherit the crown for another six years at least, and my father is still in good health.”

“The Empire needs its princess, Edelgard.”

“And they will have her,” Edelgard said firmly. “I will dedicate my life to Adrestia, when the time comes. But if I can remain just _Edelgard_ for a few more years, if there’s more that I can do for Adrestia’s politics here, and more people and books to learn from, would it really be so bad?”

 _Of course not, please stay_ , Rhea’s heart sang.

“I don’t have an answer to that,” Rhea admitted. “Your father and your uncle won’t be pleased if you refuse.”

“I know that. But—you always said that Garreg Mach would protect those who need her. Wouldn’t that include me?”

“Edelgard...”

Edelgard didn’t answer, but her shoulders slumped.

The Empire would be _furious_ at the Church seemingly overstepping its boundaries, no doubt. Possibly furious enough to cause a revolt against its remaining scraps of influence through the Southern Church. Perhaps the Kingdom and Alliance would likewise be outraged, if not enough to raise arms then at least enough to refuse aid. The Church did not have the resources to stave off any military action for long.

But her heart _ached_ for Edelgard, resonated with hers.

“...you’ll have to tell him yourself,” Rhea said. “Alone, so that he cannot claim I was influencing you. And should they choose to send their own tutors to make sure of what you’re taught, they will be allowed to.”

Edelgard looked up, hope blossoming on her face. “Really?”

“Truly. If this is your decision, then I will support you in any way that I can.”

* * *

Predictably, Lord Arundel was _furious_ , but Edelgard stood her ground, and after hours of arguing, he finally relented, stalking off.

The Empire would send its demands within the week, no doubt, but for now, they’d succeeded.

* * *

Nobility came and went in Garreg Mach, for a variety of reasons—pilgrimages, seeking the Church’s favour, a chance to meet on neutral ground. Sometimes they brought their children along, as a learning experience, and Edelgard spoke to them and invited them to tea where possible—the Faerghans and Leicesterians for insight, practice speaking to others and to foster good relations for the future, and Adrestians to keep in touch with her own country. Duke Aegir’s son, for all Edelgard resented his father in private for the Insurrection, became fast friends with her, and Marquis Vestra’s heir took to her immediately, starting to write to her practically the moment they left the grounds.

It didn’t _always_ go as planned—an encounter with an Alliance duke’s son barely a year older than her ends with him shoved into the rosebushes he was alleged to be comparing her to, forcing profuse apologies—but Edelgard usually managed common ground with them.

So when the Ethereal Moon of 1175 brought with it visitors from Faerghus—King Lambert and his son, prince Dimitri amongst them—to see the festivities around the founding festival, Rhea was unsurprised when Edelgard and the young prince took to each other quickly, albeit with Edelgard taking the first step and dragging him around until he warmed to her brash nature.

It quickly became normal to see them sneaking out when the circumstances allowed, and within reason, Rhea allowed it, as long as they stuck to more public areas.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when, one evening when Edelgard had not yet returned, Rhea found her charge and the young prince in the monastery’s gardens. What _was_ a surprise was what activity Edelgard had dictated that day.

“Wrong foot _again_ , Dimitri! You lead with your _right_!”

“But El, I should be heading back. The lights-out bell will ring soon...”

“But you keep messing up! Try again, you’ll get it right this time!”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. You only stepped on my foot after _ten_ steps this time. And you wanted to learn to dance for your birthday.”

“...well, alright. One more time.”

Rhea smiled at the pair, stepping back to give them some privacy, when heavy footsteps behind her drew her attention.

“Looks like they’re enjoying themselves. Wouldn’t you say so, Your Grace?”

“King Lambert.” Rhea smiled at him.

Lambert waved at the pair, apparently so absorbed in the steps that they hadn’t noticed their company. “I remember seeing Moyra during the night of the festival. We knew each other already, but when I saw her dancing, I knew that I wanted her to be my queen. Rodrigue had to run diversions for me all evening, trying to keep people from finding out where I’d gone.” He chuckled fondly at the memory.

Rhea smiled at him. “That’s a lovely story.”

“Thank you. I wonder... Edelgard and Dimitri are about the same age. Perhaps I should write to the Emperor to see if he might allow Dimitri to court her formally.”

Rhea’s smile turned cold. “Perhaps you should bring the matter to Edelgard herself. She seems eager to forge her own path in life, and I have no doubts that she would seek the same in her partners.”

The surprise in Lambert’s eyes would have been hidden by the darkness to humans, but Rhea saw it before he managed to get back to a neutral expression.

“Of course,” he said. “I didn’t mean to imply that I would ignore the princess’s thoughts on the matter. At any rate, they’ve a few years to go before such matters become pressing, regardless.”

“Indeed. They have plenty of time to decide anything and make arrangements accordingly—”

There were yelps from where they’d just seen Edelgard and Dimitri.

Both Rhea and Lambert fell silent immediately, glancing around for assassins, when the silence was broken by Edelgard’s laughter.

“That’s mean!” Dimitri almost cried. “I thought I hurt you!”

“You’re hopeless,” Edelgard managed between laughter. “I’d be better off asking _Cyril_ to dance!”

“Am I _that_ hopeless?!”

Edelgard devolved into further laughter, Dimitri joining in after a moment.

Rhea and Lambert relaxed, both letting out a deep breath.

“The lights-out bell will ring soon,” Rhea said. “Edelgard and I will see you and Dimitri to your rooms.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lambert said, nodding at her.

* * *

Duscur burned during the Great Tree Moon, four months after Lambert and Dimitri had visited the monastery.

The Kingdom soldiers, dispatched the moment word of the Tragedy came, found no survivors.

Edelgard clutched at Rhea’s robes and cried and cried at the loss of her friend, unable to be consoled even the tiniest bit by anything Rhea could do. So she just held Edelgard, and stroked her hair, until at long last the tears dried up.

* * *

“Seteth was going to arrive with Flayn around nine, wasn’t he?” Edelgard asked, looking at Rhea through the mirror.

Rhea hummed around the ribbon she kept clutched in her mouth, gathering strands of Edelgard’s hair. When she tied it around Edelgard’s hair, she said, “The weather has been good for flying, so they should be here soon. But please—”

“Be careful around Flayn because Seteth is overprotective and lance-happy.”

Rhea stifled a laugh. “That wasn’t the wording I used, nor would he appreciate hearing that.”

“Be careful around Flayn because she’s sheltered and Seteth is worried,” Edelgard recited, grinning back at her.

“Correct. I’m sure she would appreciate your company, though. It will do her good to be around someone her own age, and I’m sure you will be able to show her around and teach her everything she needs to know.”

“What is she like? Is she as stuffy as Seteth is?”

“Not even slightly.”

“Thank the Goddess,” Edelgard said under her breath.

Rhea did not quite manage to stifle her laughter this time, and Edelgard grinned at that. “I haven’t seen Flayn in a very long time, but she is very kind and gentle. I’m sure you will get along.”

Hopefully the company would be mutually beneficial. Flayn would love to have a friend after years of being hidden, and having her around might take Edelgard’s mind off of Duscur.

* * *

“—coast, but it has been so long that— _ah_! Au-Archbishop, good afternoon!” Flayn squeaked, pressing the dusty old book she and Edelgard had been poring over close to her chest.

“Rhea, please,” she said, smiling at Flayn—it would be bad if anyone noticed slip-ups of that kind. “I’m very sorry to interrupt, but something important has come up. Flayn, would you mind leaving us here for a moment? Close the door, please.”

Edelgard and Flayn exchanged a quick, confused look, but Flayn got to her feet and nodded. “I will be fishing by the pond. You will come find me when you are done, will you not?”

“Of course,” Edelgard agreed.

Flayn gave her a bright smile before running off, closing the door to Seteth’s office behind her.

“Are you getting along well with Flayn?” Rhea asked, settling down on Seteth’s office chair.

Edelgard nodded. “She’s eager to learn and speak to me. Though not very good at bluffing or keeping secrets. She tends to lose at Cheat a lot,” she added, keeping her own face perfectly straight.

Rhea’s heart sank. Edelgard could be trusted to hide whatever she’d managed to deduce, but Seteth might have a heart attack if he heard. Perhaps she should have a conversation with Flayn herself...

Focus. Not right now.

Rhea pulled a letter out from the folds of her cloak. “A letter arrived from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, detailing the students that will be attending the Officer’s Academy come the Great Tree Moon next year.”

“I see,” Edelgard said after a moment.

“The first name on that list is Prince Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.”

Edelgard leapt to her feet, Seteth’s drawing-stool toppling over behind her. “Dimitri?” she asked. “He’s alive? But they hadn’t found hide nor hair from him after the Tragedy of Duscur three years ago—”

“I am aware,” Rhea said. “But he has the Crest of Blaiddyd, reportedly looks exactly like the late king, and Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius has vouched for him. We were asked to keep it quiet for now, but it seems that the prince managed to survive.”

Edelgard looked down at the ground, still wrapping her head around it. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “Where has he been all that time?...”

“Edelgard, please understand, I was not supposed to tell you this,” Rhea spoke carefully. “But since you will be attending the Academy as well next year, I felt you ought to know regardless. There is... something strange about this.”

“Assassination attempts don’t usually end with one of the targets disappearing to reappear later,” Edelgard said.

Rhea nodded. “Please be kind to the prince when he arrives. Whatever has happened in his absence, I am sure he would benefit from a friend.”

“Of course. Leave it to me, Rhea.” Edelgard bowed to her.

“Thank you. I know that I can rely on you.”

Edelgard smiled brightly at her.

* * *

If she had not been informed beforehand that this was the prince—if not for his uncanny resemblance to Lambert when he was younger, if not for him having demonstrated having the Crest of Blaiddyd—Rhea might not have recognized him.

His hair was a strange, platinum color now instead of the gold from before, and the dark blue of his eyes had turned paler, looking cold as Faerghus’ ice.

He knelt before Rhea when he arrived in the audience chamber in a very controlled manner. “Archbishop. Thank you for allowing me to attend.”

“Please, rise, prince Dimitri,” Rhea said. “The pleasure is all mine. The Kingdom and the Church have always been closely entwined. Nothing would please me more than to see you grow and flourish under its teaching.”

“Of course.” Dimitri gave her a tight smile. “I look forward to it.”

Seteth cleared his throat when Dimitri walked off, waiting until he was out of earshot. “The Tragedy must have affected him more than expected.”

Rhea frowned in thought. “Perhaps. He did lose a lot of people close to him. The trauma might have led to more consequences than expected...”

Seteth hummed, turning back to the office.

* * *

On the 16th of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial year 1180, the three House leaders were nearly killed by bandits.

A troubling start to a year that, like a great avalanche, started with a few pebbles leading to a great catastrophe.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Moyra, Dimitri's mother, was named after Moyra Caldecott, writer of a fictional account of the life of Bladud (a historical king of Wales, whose name can also be written Blaiddyd).
> 
> I have no idea if/when I will ever continue this, but this works as a standalone fic for now.  
> Also, if the years/dates don't add up compared to datamined stuff, it was either changed because of the AU-circumstances... or because I'm just terrible at dates. Whichever one you prefer.


End file.
